


One Steamy Autumn Night

by Spiderlily_Writes



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, First Time, Nervousness, Post-Time Skip, Sauna, Unprotected Public Handholding, adoration, plenty of kisses, they love each other very much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26991775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiderlily_Writes/pseuds/Spiderlily_Writes
Summary: Petra and Bernadetta have been courting for several months now, but they've seldom done more than share nervous kisses behind closed doors. When Petra's struggling to sleep and she calls on Bernadetta to join her in the sauna late at night, Bernie can't help but wonder if this is her chance for more.
Relationships: Petra Macneary/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 25
Kudos: 56





	1. A Late Night Visit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cookabeara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookabeara/gifts).



> Hello! This is part of an art trade I did with the fantastic and lovely [Cookabeara](https://twitter.com/Cookabeara). She drew me not one, not two, but _three_ lovely new profile icons, and so this seemed the least I could do. Enjoy <3

It’s got to be somewhere around midnight when there’s a knock on Bernadetta’s door.

She’s still up, of course; the knock doesn’t wake her, but it’s still enough to make her jump about a foot in the air out of her chair and almost choke on her mouthful of fruit. She manages to swallow the food down the _correct_ way, catches her breath, and then calls out to whoever is on the other side of the door.

“H-hello? Who is it?” Bernadetta eyes the several locks holding her door shut to make sure they’re all engaged. They are; she doesn’t have to worry. Bernadetta worries _anyway_ of course, but she tries to remind herself that she doesn’t _have_ to.

“Bernadetta? It is Petra! Are you feeling okay? I hope I did not awaken you!” Petra. Right. That’s fine. Petra’s fine. Nothing to worry about at all. She hops out of her chair and scurries over to the entryway, disengaging the locks.

“Of course, I’m fine, totally fine! Let me just…” Bernadetta trails off as she works the mechanisms. Her hands are trembling, which makes it a little more difficult, but it’s not from fear. It’s never fear with Petra; if there’s one person in the whole of Fodlan that she feels safe with, it’s Petra MacNeary. 

No, her hands are trembling because she’s _nervous_. She has been for the last several weeks, actually. 

She’s been courting Petra for about...three months now? Something like that. She’d had feelings for Petra- and how could anyone _not_?- during their time as students at Garreg Mach. Upon their reunion five years later, it had come to light that those feelings were reciprocated; a fact which _still_ makes Bernadetta feel a sense of giddy disbelief. She’s amazed that someone as wonderful and pretty and smart and tough as Petra could feel for her so intensely, but she also can’t imagine Petra _lying_ to her, or confessing feelings as a mean joke, and so she has had no choice but to believe her new girlfriend.

The word makes Bernadetta feel all warm and tingly. Girlfriend. She has a _girlfriend_. 

A girlfriend who is currently waiting outside her door.

“Bernadetta? Are you certain that you are okay? Have you fallen?” Petra calls, and Bernadetta squeaks as she’s jolted from her thoughts. She opens the door without further ado.

“No, no, I’m-” she stops midway through her assurance as she sees that Petra is standing before her in nothing but a plain white towel, one which she’s wrapped around herself to cover the area from her collarbone to mid-thigh. And as she _sees_ those thighs and that collarbone, her nervousness returns in spades.

She’s nervous about sex.

It’s not that Bernadetta doesn’t want to do such things; she _very_ much does. She’s been reading and writing dirty romance stories since before she was _technically_ old enough for them. Sylvain finding some that she’d accidentally left lying out in the library back when they were students had been one of the most embarrassing moments of her entire life.

No, Bernadetta is nervous about trying to have sex and being _bad_ at it. She _knows_ she will be. She can’t conceive of any other way it could happen. Bernadetta is smart enough to know the difference between _reading_ about something and actually knowing how to _do_ it, and she doesn’t know if her heart could handle Petra being disappointed in her. She’s never actually done it before, and she can’t imagine that a woman as lovely as Petra wouldn’t have, and so when the time inevitably comes…

Well. It doesn’t bear thinking about. She gives Petra a shaky smile, feeling self-conscious in her own frumpy pajamas. “I’m okay! How are you? Is everything alright? Why are you in a...a towel?”

“I am...mostly feeling okay, yes, Bernadetta, but I am having a very serious struggle with getting to sleep,” Petra replies. She returns Bernadetta’s smile with a soft one of her own, and it’s radiant as always, but there’s something...unsure, behind it. As though Petra is nervous, too. “I had been wondering if you would have interest in joining me at the sauna?”

The sauna! Oh, that explains the towel. Bernadetta sighs, relieved. There are many reasons that Petra might be showing up to her bedroom late at night in nothing but a towel, but inviting her to the sauna is by far the most innocent and least nerve-wracking. “Oh, of course! Let me just change, and I’ll be right there!”

Petra hesitates, then nods and steps back from the door, letting Bernadetta nudge it closed. Bernadetta hurriedly strips off her pajamas, grabs her set of sauna clothes- a simple sleeveless tunic and matching shorts- and begins to pull them on, not wanting to keep Petra waiting. Then, she stops. Realization slams into her as she’s sticking one leg through the shorts, and it sends a chill down her spine. 

She casts her gaze aside to the tunic with a frown. The sauna clothes go up to the base of her neck when they’re on; they’re designed that way. Even if she were to put on a towel, in much the same way Petra has, they would show through the top of it. This, Bernadetta deduces, can only mean one thing:

There are no sauna clothes beneath Petra’s towel. Bernadetta shivers.

After giving it a moment of thought, Bernadetta goes ahead and pulls her own shirt and shorts on anyways, grabs her towel, and opens the door once more. Petra is watching the path down to the sauna intently, and Bernadetta clears her throat to get her attention. Her partner starts, then turns to look at her. “Yes, Bernadetta?” she asks. “Is everything going well?”

Bernadetta fidgets, unsure how to approach this, and she decides that the direct approach is probably best. “Are you...uh...wearing anything under your towel? I don’t see the tunic and…”

Petra cuts in, and Bernadetta isn’t sure due to the darkness outside, but she thinks Petra is blushing a bit. “Oh! That is my mistake; I am so sorry! In Brigid, we also have saunas, but it is not usual that we are wearing coverings on our chests!” When she sees Bernadetta’s eyes widen, she hurries to continue. “I can go and retrieve my top covering if it would be making you more comfortable! I was not thinking!”

She swallows. She could tell Petra to go get it; she doesn’t think her partner would be upset with her. On the other hand, she has seen Petra’s well-sculpted and lithely muscled midriff on more than one occasion, and the idea of getting to see _more_ makes Bernadetta’s face go so hot that she’s surprised her ears aren’t steaming.

“No, no, it’s okay!” she says, maybe a bit too quickly, as she holds up a hand. “Whatever makes you feel comfortable! It’s fine; doesn’t bother me a bit!” Petra visibly relaxes, and Bernadetta does too. A little. She steps the rest of the way out of her room and closes the door tight behind her; the last thing she needs is to come back to a room full of bugs.

The two of them begin the trek to the sauna together. It’s not terribly far, and the weather is really perfect for it, as far as Bernadetta is concerned. There’s just a slight, crisp chill in the air, the kind that’s doubtlessly going to feel a little less pleasant when they step out of the sauna, but it’s lovely at the moment and gives her just a slight prickling of goosebumps. 

She can smell autumn on the wind, and leaves crunch beneath their feet as they make their way down the stone walkways that weave through the Officer’s Academy. Petra doesn’t say a word, nor does Bernadetta, and that suits them both just fine. With many, it would be an awkward silence, but with Petra, it is comfortable and companionate, and the soothing chorus of crickets and owls settles around them like a well-worn blanket as the stars and moon light their way.

Their hands, swinging gently at their sides, collide when the women are about halfway to their destination. Without a conscious thought from either of them, their fingers lace together as though that’s the way they’ve always been meant to be. Bernadetta smiles, the familiar sensation of Petra’s callused but gentle palm against her own making her lingering anxiety melt away like snow before a furnace. How could she worry, when Petra’s _right there_?

When they arrive, Petra opens the door for her politely, and Bernadetta steps into the small wooden-paneled room. Despite the fact that nobody had been using the sauna before they arrived, the space holds heat quite well, and it’s a stark contrast to the chill night air outside that suddenly seems icy by comparison. Petra follows her in, and closes the door behind her. It swings shut with what feels like a deafening boom, but Bernadetta knows, logically, that it only feels that way because of how quiet it’s been so far.

It’s Petra who breaks the silence first, though she still speaks in a low voice, as though she’s afraid of breaking the spell that the lovely nighttime ambience has cast over them both. “I thank you for coming with me, Bernadetta,” she says as Bernadetta finds a seat and lays out her towel. “I was wanting to come and use the sauna, but I was very much _not_ wanting to do it alone.”

“No?” Bernadetta asks, as Petra begins to prepare the sauna for them to use. Bernadetta doesn’t know how to do that, exactly, but Petra comes quite often, and so she’s more than happy to let her partner handle it. “Why not?” She watches Petra move, trying- and failing- not to stare at the curves of her legs.

Once steam begins to billow through the room, lightly at first and intensifying quickly, Petra turns to her with an odd look. “Why not? Is it not so that things are more enjoyable when you are doing them with other people?”

Bernadetta bites her lip and looks away. Stupid thing to say. Of course _normal_ people enjoy doing things with others. “Well, yes, most people probably think so,” she says, hedging. “But...I like to do things alone, a lot of the time. You know me!”

Petra pouts. “Are you wishing you were not doing things with _me_?” Bernadetta _knows_ she’s teasing her, but it still makes her heart skip a beat. She would never dream of trying to upset Petra, and the idea that she might have done so is nearly enough to make her panic again.

“No! No, it’s not like that at all!” Bernadetta insists. “I love doing things with you. I’d do _anything_ with you. You’re...different!”

“Oh, well, if you are so sure,” Petra says, and her smile returns, but just as it had been back at Bernadetta’s room, there’s a hint of something unsteady beneath it. “I am very much appreciating that you would do anything with me.” 

She reaches up and untucks the corner of her towel, casually letting it fall away from her body, and Bernadetta is thankful that the steam has already got her red all over. While Petra is indeed wearing the bottom half of her sauna garb, she’s completely bare from the waist up, and she seems largely unconcerned about that fact as she leans over and spreads the towel out next to Bernadetta, then sits down with a comfortable sigh. Of course, it makes sense; if that’s how one typically goes to a sauna in Brigid, why _wouldn’t_ Petra be comfortable?

Despite her earlier excitement, Bernadetta looks away reflexively, only catching the quickest glimpse of Petra’s bare and wonderfully toned back before doing so. She doesn’t want to be disrespectful, doesn’t want to stare, doesn’t want to be a _pervert_ and make her girlfriend hate her and-

She’s torn from her rapidly spiraling anxiety by a light, easy touch on her thigh. She squeaks.

“Bernadetta,” Petra asks, her voice wary. “Is everything okay? You are not looking at me. You are looking at everything _except_ me. Did I make you upset with some thing that I said?”

“N-no,” Bernadetta’s voice is wavering, and trembling, and she knows it’s obvious. “I...I don’t want to stare, is all. You’re not wearing a...a shirt, and I don’t…”

“You do not want to look at me?” Petra asks, and _now_ she sounds hurt. Bernadetta whines aloud.

“It’s not that, I do! I just don’t want you to be upset with me for um...looking too much?”

There’s a moment of silence between them, and when Petra speaks, _she_ sounds nervous. If anything, she sounds more nervous than Bernadetta _feels_. “Bernadetta,” she begins, and there’s a quiver under her words. “You are my...partner. You…” Petra takes a deep breath. “I w-want you...to look at me. As much as you are wanting to.”

The bottom drops out of Bernadetta’s stomach. Is Petra...shy? Is she actually _worried_? And more importantly, is she suggesting what Bernadetta _thinks_ she’s suggesting?

Bernadetta swallows hard, then turns to look at her girlfriend.

Petra sits on the bench next to her, her upper body turned toward Bernadetta with her hands behind her for support and her arms bent slightly at the elbows. Her hair, loose behind her, cascades down over her back and shoulders, and her eyes are cast to the side, in the same way that Bernadetta’s _usually_ are.

In this case though, Bernadetta doesn’t know if she’s ever looked at anyone or anything so intently in her life. Her gaze slides down from Petra’s eyes to the curve of her jaw, to her beautiful, irresistibly kissable looking neck, and further _still._ She takes in every single inch as she looks to the dip in Petra’s neck before her torso, to her collarbone, and to her brazenly bare breasts. She looks below their generous but perfect sloping curves to Petra’s stomach, which is so beautifully toned that Bernadetta swears she could bounce a gold coin off of it. And below that is her navel, and below that...well, if Bernadetta thinks too much further, she might just pop.

Petra’s whole body is covered in a thin sheen of moisture, though Bernadetta isn’t sure whether it’s due to the steam from the sauna or the sweating said steam is causing, but it makes her glisten beautifully all the same. Bernadetta, at the moment, wants nothing more than to dive forward and press her lips to every square inch of exposed skin. But she restrains herself, of course.

“You’re...wow...Petra…” Bernadetta says, without even thinking. “You’re...really, _really_ pretty.”

The corners of Petra’s mouth curl up in a smile, though she still doesn’t look at Bernadetta yet. “You are truly meaning that? I-I do not wish to upset you, or make you do things that you are not wanting to do, or say things you do not mean.”

“No, Petra!” Her eyes go wide. She cannot, _will_ not let Petra believe for even one second that she’s anything less than perfect. “Not at all! I’ve...wanted to look at you, too. I mean, I know we’ve k-kissed a few times, and there was that time you were pressed all up against me and stuff after that battle at Gronder, but…”

Is this it? Is tonight the night? Bernadetta steels herself, summons every ounce of her courage, and presses on.

“I really love you, Petra! A lot! And I...want to do anything _you_ want to do!”

There’s another long silence. This one drags on a bit more than the last, and it ends when Petra turns back to Bernadetta, finally meeting her gaze. Petra’s eyes are damp with tears. “You are...really meaning that?” she confirms, as though she’s afraid to let herself believe it. “You are wanting to...do more things with me?”

Every terrified, nervous, anxious, skittish impulse in Bernadetta’s mind, heart, and body are all telling her to run. To get up and leave; get far, far away from here before she can embarrass herself. But for once, because Petra is here, and she trusts her more than she trusts the anxiety that has forever had her heart in a stranglehold, she manages to shove those impulses down just enough to nod.

Petra smiles at her, and it’s huge and full of love and sunshine and she all but _pounces_ upon Bernadetta. The archer manages to steel herself just enough to remain upright as Petra crashes against her, her lips seeking Bernadetta’s immediately for a hard, heated, impassioned kiss that scorches her more than anything in this room possibly could. Petra slides a hand up into Bernadetta’s hair, combing her fingers through it and holding her steady while her other hand finds the small of Bernadetta’s back. She presses harder, kisses her as though she’s suffocating and Bernadetta has the only air for miles, and Bernadetta, for her part, doesn’t pull away. Her eyelids flutter as she melts into the kiss, and she puts both her hands, very chastely, on Petra’s waist.

When they part, both women are panting heavily. Whether it’s from the steamy, humid air of the sauna, or from the sheer exertion of their kiss, though, it’s hard to say. Petra looks upon Bernadetta, eyes wide and excited, and asks for confirmation one last time.

“You are really wanting to...do...things. To have sex. With me. That is what you are wanting to do?” Petra sounds like she’s almost in disbelief, and Bernadetta blinks in confusion.

“Well, yeah, of course!” she says “W-why are you asking like that though?”

Petra swallows hard , looking, once more, uneasy. Her eyes never leave Bernadetta’s. “Could you...maybe…”

“Of course! Anything!”

“Could you be teaching me _how_?”


	2. Tutoring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernadetta is, surprisingly, a very good teacher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the finale. I hope you enjoy! <3

Bernadetta sits, stunned, staring at Petra. Her girlfriend’s chest is still heaving from their drawn-out. impassioned kiss moments before, and it’s hard not to be distracted by that, but _somehow_ , Petra’s words have left her somehow more gobsmacked than even the kiss had.

“Wh...what do you mean?” Bernadetta asks, slowly. She doesn’t want to offend Petra by assuming anything, but it certainly _sounds_ like she’s asking Bernadetta how they’re going to have sex.

Petra smiles sheepishly. “I had been hoping that you could do the teaching, and that I could be following your lead?”

More stunned silence follows. “I-I don’t...why...you think I-I know how to…?” Bernadetta is flustered and stammering, unsure what she can even _say_ at this point. Petra, her girlfriend, the most beautiful girl she has ever met in her entire life, is asking her how to have sex. “I’ve never...uh…”

Now Petra seems more confused than anything else. “But, Bernie, I have seen the different kinds of books that you have been reading, and even some that you have been _writing_!” Her stomach drops as Petra speaks, and her mouth goes dry as she begins to understand the gross misunderstanding here. “I thought you would be an expert!”

Bernadetta fidgets for a moment. “Petra, I...I love you very much, and I definitely want to do that, if you do, but I never have either. I’ve...only read about it in books. And that’s not exactly the same thing.”

“But you have written about it as well!”

“Well, yeah, that’s true,” Bernadetta concedes. “But it’s still not the same, and…”

She looks into Petra’s gentle, patient brown eyes, and can see the silent plea there. Bernadetta whines in frustration, unsure what to do. She isn’t lying when she says she wants this, but she had been hoping Petra would know more than her, and could take the lead.

Although…

If Petra hasn’t ever done anything either, and she doesn’t even know how it _works_ , then she’ll have basically _no_ expectations. Bernadetta can do her best, and there’s no way Petra could be disappointed! She thinks it over for a second, beginning to consider the possibility that this is a blessing in disguise.

“Okay!” Bernadetta declares. “I’ll um...do my best!” Petra smiles eagerly.

“I am very glad to hear it! What do we do first?”

The idea of explaining it step by step is enough to make Bernadetta’s ears burn, so she decides to take a different approach. “Well, first, I think we should kiss again. And I’ll try to go from there?”

Petra’s smile goes from eager to wolfish, as though she’s just found her prey after a long day of hunting. She looks at Bernadetta that way sometimes, and Bernadetta can never decide whether it’s scary or really, _really_ attractive. “I am thinking I can do that,” Petra purrs, leaning toward Bernadetta and kissing her again.

Bernadetta lets her, offering no resistance, and opening her mouth to allow Petra to slip her tongue between her lips. It’s intoxicating when she pushes like this, and the effect only intensifies when Petra’s hands find their way onto Bernadetta once more. One slips up beneath Bernadetta’s shirt to the soft, smooth skin of her back, and Bernadetta can feel Petra’s nails dragging down her spine ever so slowly. Her other hand ends up on the scruff of Bernadetta’s neck, as though she’s being held in place; as if Petra thinks she’s going to try to run away. She won’t, she absolutely wouldn’t, but it feels exceedingly nice for reasons she can’t put her finger on.

In return, Bernadetta swirls her tongue around Petra’s and puts her hands on the other woman’s torso. One sits loosely on her side, just barely holding onto Petra below the ribs, and the other slides up to cup one of Petra’s breasts and squeezes gently. Petra flinches for a moment, and Bernadetta worries that she’s done something wrong, but she relaxes almost immediately and looses a soft, pleased groan into Bernadetta’s mouth. Bernadetta can feel warmth, beyond that which the sauna provides, pooling low in her core and between her legs, and she tries very hard not to seem overeager.

She brushes her thumb over Petra’s nipple, in the same way she does to herself in bed late at night, reasoning that it’ll probably feel as good for someone else as it does for her. It seems to work, because Petra hums again and the nipple stiffens beneath Bernadetta’s finger. Her hand tightens on Petra’s side, as well, and Petra breaks their kiss for just a moment.

“I thought you were saying,” she breathes against Bernadetta’s lips, “that you had not been doing this before. Were you telling me a lie, Bernie-bear?” she teases, then giggles lightly before Bernadetta has a chance to deny it.

As before, she knows Petra is teasing her, but this time, she doesn’t feel the need to frantically insist otherwise. This time, she lets Petra kiss her and enjoys the moment, enjoys being held and loved and _wanted_ by her partner. It’s very nearly a kind of high, and she could remain like this all night, but there’s a hunger inside, one that’s rather new, urging her forward.

Bernadetta racks her brain, her vast repository of smutty novel knowledge, trying to think of what to do next. Acting on a whim, she pulls away from Petra’s mouth and leans in, planting one, then two clumsy kisses on Petra’s neck. Petra lets her, the hand on the back of her neck moving along dutifully, and her girlfriend gasps. “Bernadetta, that is feeling very, very nice!” she says, enthusiastically. “Do that again!”

Of course, Bernadetta complies; how could she say no to that? She moves to the other side, and the kisses are just a tad less clumsy this time. Petra groans and it sends a bolt of pure arousal straight through Bernadetta. She would spend all night, and all day tomorrow, and the next night, even, doing this as long as it got her more of those noises. “Mmm, that is a very good girl, Bernadetta,” Petra hums, and Bernadetta shivers despite the heat of the room. 

She kisses her way down Petra’s neck and to her collarbone, then down a little bit further. Bernadetta is shaking, she knows she is, but Petra is being patient, and kind, and not moving even an inch more than Bernadetta wants her to, so she tries her best to relax. When she eventually reaches the breast on which her hand is not situated, she kisses that, too, and presses her lips softly to Petra’s other nipple. 

Petra squeaks, and Bernadetta makes an impulse decision, another thing taken directly from one of her books, and closes her teeth around the stiffening peak. It’s a soft bite, but a bite nonetheless, and Petra gasps in pain, her hand tightening on the back of Bernadetta’s neck. “So, Bernie-bear can also be biting sometimes. I am thinking you should be careful so that I do not put a muzzle on you,” she chastises playfully. Bernadetta tries not to think about _that_ too much.

She leans away from Petra a little bit, looking up into her girlfriend’s eyes. “Do you want to, maybe, um,” she begins, unsteady. “Do you want to take my shirt off so you can...look at me too?” she asks, and Petra’s eyes glitter. 

“Yes, I would like that very much!” she says. In one smooth motion, the hand on Bernadetta’s bare back flips around, slides down, grabs the hem of Bernadetta’s sauna shirt and pulls it up, off, and away. She supposes she shouldn’t be surprised; Petra _is_ extremely dextrous of course, but she’s reminded of that yet again as her arms are forcibly redirected through her sleeves and the shirt is cast decisively aside.

Bernadetta yelps despite herself, and just barely catches herself before she has a chance to pull her arms up in front of her breasts. She’s seen Petra, fair is fair, and if there’s one person in the whole world that she doesn’t need to feel self-conscious with, it’s _her_. She’s already demonstrated quite effectively that she’s _interested_ in Bernadetta, in every sense of the word.

Her girlfriend doesn’t waste any time getting her hands on her, either. Petra lays them palm-down on Bernadetta’s hips, just above the waist of her shorts, and slides them up, covering as much of Bernadetta’s torso as possible with the motion. Bernadetta’s breath catches as she does; the feeling of someone else’s hands on her bare skin is completely new to her, and it’s intoxicating. She looks down, tracking the path of Petra’s hands with her eyes. 

She brings them up to cup Bernadetta’s breasts and kneads them softly, wringing a quiet groan from the target of her affections. She replicates the motion Bernadetta had made with her thumbs, brushing them over the tips of Bernadetta’s nipples and grinning once she sees the effect it has on her. “Petra, that feels really nice,” she whines. “Really, really nice.”

“I am certainly hoping so. It felt very nice when you did it to me as well!” Petra says, wryly, then pinches. Bernadetta yelps, almost pulling away, but she manages to stay put. “Well, now _you_ are seeing how _that_ feels,” she teases. 

Petra’s movements slow to a stop after a moment, though; her smile fades a bit, too. “I am following where you are leading, Bernadetta, but…” Petra says, meeting Bernadetta’s eyes, her expression plaintive. “I am still not very sure what to do. Can you...tell me exactly what to be doing? Like you are writing one of your stories?” She chews her lip, looking uncertain. “If it is too much to ask, you do not have to!”

“No! No, I definitely can do that, no problem at all!” Bernadetta lies. “I...uh...okay. Alright…” She gives it a moment of thought as she considers the vast amounts of power she’s just been handed. Petra will do _anything_ she wants. _Anything_ she asks. “First…”

“Yes?” Petra sounds eager.

Bernadetta stammers. “Y-you should...uh…”

Still, Petra watches her. Bernadetta feels the pressure. She might pass out.

“K-kiss my n-neck?” is what she eventually settles on, and Petra takes to the task with immediate enthusiasm. She hums, reaching out for Bernadetta and putting one hand on her hip, the other on her cheek, then she tilts Bernadetta’s head to the side and exposes the smooth, sensitive skin of her neck. Petra leans in, presses her lips to it, and plants one, then two, then three kisses there, sucking lightly upon the skin. Bernadetta groans and feels herself grow weak. It feels _lovely_ , and Petra smells so nice, and looks so pretty, and she’s pretty sure she’s getting dizzy from the sensation alone.

“Good job,” she breathes. “Okay, now...go down. Like, keep doing that, but move down my neck? And...down as far as you wanna go.” Bernadetta has an endpoint in mind, but she’s dead certain that if she just skips there and says it out loud, it’ll kill her on the spot from sheer embarrassment. 

“As you wish,” Petra purrs, and there’s something incredibly lascivious about it. She begins to suspect that Petra might know more about all this than she lets on, but she doesn’t really have time to consider it as Petra’s mouth trails down Bernadetta’s neck and to her collarbone, then further still between her breasts. Her partner is moving quickly, and Bernadetta is running out of time to think.

Before she can make another suggestion, Petra latches onto one of Bernadetta’s nipples with her mouth, sucking gently, then does the same to the other. Bernadetta whines softly, putting a hand to her mouth to stifle any further embarrassing noises. “P-Petra,” she mutters from behind her hand, and those beautiful brown eyes find hers once more. “That...feels really nice.”

Petra nibbles at Bernadetta’s skin lightly, then continues downward, gently nudging Bernadetta backward. She lays down on the bench to allow Petra to keep going, and her partner continues diligently. Eventually, she reaches the waist of Bernadetta’s pants, and Bernadetta gasps as Petra looks up at her once more. “What should I be doing?” she asks, and her voice couldn’t possibly _be_ any more innocent. Bernadetta groans, and fidgets again, and looks down at Petra, who has leaned over her and is currently resting her chin on the last bit of exposed skin on Bernadetta’s torso. 

“You should...uh…” Bernadetta begins. Okay, Bernie. Easy. She can do this. She just has to describe, in detail, Petra pulling off her shorts and leaning in and putting her mouth on her-

Bernadetta whines, and Petra cocks her head to the side. “Is everything being okay, Bernadetta? Did I hurt you too badly when I did some biting?”

“No, that’s not it, I just…ugh! This is hard!” she groans in frustration. “I wish I could…”

Wait. She doesn’t _have_ to tell Petra what to do here. There’s another thing she can try instead. She’s not sure it would be _less_ embarrassing than explaining oral sex to her girlfriend, but at the very least, it wouldn’t necessitate her talking about it. For the second time that evening, Bernadetta gathers up all the courage she can muster and tries to speak with authority.

“It-It would be easier if I just showed you, I think!” she declares, and Petra raises an eyebrow. 

“If you showed me what?”

“I don’t...okay, just follow my lead!” Bernadetta insists, and she sits up slowly enough that it doesn’t jostle Petra _too_ much. Her girlfriend does as asked, sitting up with Bernadetta and looking at her inquisitively. Rather than answer any of the questions that her expression asks, though, Bernadetta leans forward and puts a hand on Petra, gently pushing her back and down. 

In moments, their positions have reversed, and Petra is now the one laying on her back on the bench, with Bernadetta over her. Her hands, which feel very clumsy and awkward in comparison to Petra’s deft and skillful ones, are poised over the waist of Petra’s shorts, and she swallows hard. “C-can I...take these off? Is that okay?”

The way Petra watches her, the way her eyes are so full of love and trust, the way she smiles so gently, it all makes Bernadetta’s heart ache. She would do anything for this woman; she can certainly do this. Petra nods. “I would like for you to do that very much.”

Bernadetta takes a deep breath and hooks her fingers in the waist of Petra’s sauna shorts, then pulls down slowly. Petra lifts her hips a bit to make it easier on her and, in moments, they’re off and discarded along with Bernadetta’s shirt.

Petra, bless her, actually looks _bashful_ as she’s laid completely bare before Bernadetta, and it’s positively _adorable_. She spreads her legs apart, just a bit, and Bernie takes a moment to look her over, and to admire how lovely her partner is for what must be the thousandth time that evening. She’s never seen another woman like this, though she’s certainly read about plenty, and she’s familiar with her _own_ anatomy, so it’s not like she’s caught off guard, but she still can’t pull her eyes away. 

The fact that she gets to be here, doing this, suddenly makes just about everything else worth it.

“Is...everything okay, Bernadetta?” Petra asks, and her voice sounds small. “Am I...did you change your mind?”

Bernadetta’s eyes go wide. “No way, I sure didn’t!” she says, laughing nervously. “I just...you know, like I said, I haven’t done any of this before, either. But…” 

She thinks about it for a moment, considering their positions. “Maybe...you should sit up? No, yeah, you should definitely sit up...I think.”

Petra looks a bit confused, since she just got put on her back, but she does as Bernadetta asks, and Bernadetta slides off the bench and to the hard wooden floor of the sauna. She grabs her shirt and puts it under her knees, because some cushion is better than none, and touches Petra’s leg, nudging her to turn and sit on the edge of the bench with her feet on the floor.

Once they’re in position, she sits for a moment, eye-level with Petra’s slit and the tuft of fuchsia hair there, as the reality of what she’s about to do sets in. An hour ago, she was terrified that there might come a time that Petra wanted to have sex and she wouldn’t be up to it. Now, she’s going to go down on her in the sauna. Funny how things turn out like that.

Bernadetta leans forward, kissing the side of Petra’s knee, then trailing a line of small pecks and bites up the inside of her thigh, closer, closer, ever closer to her goal. She can actually feel Petra’s breath catching as she does, too, can see the effect she’s having on her, and it feels wonderful. It’s so quiet in the sauna that she swears she can hear Petra’s heart beating faster, but it could also be her own, pounding in her ears in terrified excitement.

“Bernadetta,” Petra sighs. “I...are you going to-” she begins to ask, but Bernadetta cuts her off as she leans in and puts her lips to Petra’s folds. The other woman cries out in surprise, her muscles tensing, and it takes her a couple of seconds to relax. She looks up at Petra for permission to go on, and it’s granted as Petra brushes her fingers through Bernadetta’s hair, tucking a few loose strands behind her ear. “You look very beautiful, Bernie-bear,” Petra murmurs, and Bernadetta feels like she could fly. “I trust you.”

Newly emboldened by the praise, she tries to recall every bit of romantic and erotic literature that she can, as well as her own extensive... _experience_ , with her own body, and drags her tongue across Petra in one long, lazy, languorous lick, which sends a sensual shudder through Petra that Bernadetta can _feel_. “That is...feeling very nice, Bernadetta,” she sighs, and Bernadetta can tell by the way she moves, and speaks, and by how slick she is, that she means every word. Petra rests her hand on Bernadetta’s head as she continues, slowly, nearly rhythmically.

She loves it, honestly. She loves the taste of Petra, the feel of her, the way that her thighs clench around her head when she gets to just the right spot, but she’s deliberately ignoring Petra’s clit. She wants to get her as worked up as she can, first, because if there’s one thing Bernadetta’s writing has taught her, it’s that one can’t jump straight to the climax. One has to _build_ first, and the more drawn in a reader is, the greater the payoff in the end.

It’s not long, though, before Petra’s moaning her name and tightening her fingers in her hair. Her girlfriend is panting and tugging and sighing in the prettiest ways, and Bernadetta is so proud of herself for getting there, but she can’t help but wonder if Petra’s playing it up a little bit. After all, Bernadetta’s never done this before, and she finds it hard to imagine she could possibly be _that_ good.

Regardless, Bernadetta knows she’s going to have to take Petra’s reactions on faith, and assume that her body and voice are both equally honest. So she moves up a little, finding Petra’s clit with her tongue and flicking against it, ever so gently. Petra cries out in surprise, tugging on Bernadetta’s hair and tensing more than she has thus far. She sounds almost shocked when she loosens her grip and groans down at Bernadetta.

“Bernie, what...what are you _doing_?” she asks, awestruck. “That is _extremely_ good, it is-” Bernadetta cuts her off by leaning in and sucking gently, causing Petra to squeeze her eyes shut and let out a strangled little whine. “It is very different from when I have touched myself!”

She tries very hard not to get distracted by the mental image of Petra in her bedroom, tangled up in her sheets with a hand between her legs. She fails, but she absolutely tries, and Bernadetta feels that should be worth something. Rather than answering Petra verbally, though, she goes back to what she was doing, sucking, licking, and kissing at Petra with renewed interest. She hopes that what she lacks in skill, she can make up for in enthusiasm, and it certainly sounds like it’s working.

Bernadetta can feel her own arousal, and it’s _torture_ , continuing to go at Petra like this without any stimulation for herself, so she slides her hand down, in between her own legs, and begins to rub at herself through her shorts. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing, and she needs her other hand for what she plans to do next. 

That free hand slides up and in between Petra’s legs. It takes some work, and a little bit of wiggling of her wrist, but she manages to angle herself so that she can work at her girlfriend’s clit with her mouth while using two fingers to thrust, solidly, rhythmically into her. Petra seems to enjoy that, based on the increased volume and frequency of the pretty little groans and pants that she emits, and so Bernie continues, working faster, and firmer, gradually driving Petra up to her peak.

She waits until it sounds like Petra is about to fall apart above her, until she just doesn’t seem like she can take anymore, and then slows, then stops, for just a moment. Petra cries out in frustration, her grip tightening, and pouts down at Bernadetta. “Why have you stopped?” she pleads. “Bernie-bear, I was getting very close to the end!”

Bernadetta smiles up at her, the expression reaching her eyes, and she laughs, carefree, her nerves no longer nearly the problem they had been before. She feels confident, competent, and even a little bit sexy. It’s a good way to feel. “Sorry!” she says, “I-I just...wanted to tell you how...really pretty you look up there.” She flushes as she says it, she knows how sappy it sounds, but it’s the truth.

Before Petra can reply properly, Bernadetta leans in once more and continues with renewed vigor, sucking on Petra, flicking out with her tongue, thrusting with her hand, doing everything she can, making every possible motion, to get Petra over the edge.

It doesn’t take long before she does. Petra’s cries reach a fever pitch; she’s loud enough that Bernadetta would be surprised if she didn’t wake up a few of their friends, but the sauna is probably too well-insulated for that. Petra’s muscles clench, all of them that Bernadetta can feel, and she looks Bernadetta in the eyes as she comes, tugging lightly on her hair again, pressing in with her legs, trying to keep Bernadetta in place. It’s not like Bernadetta would try to flee, though, she’s working Petra through her climax with a clumsy hand and a clumsier, and exhausted, tongue. It doesn’t seem to last nearly long enough; Bernadetta feels like she could watch Petra climax for hours and it would never get old.

But as all things must, it comes to an end, and she slackens, then wobbles, and almost falls over, but she manages to put one hand on the bench beside her for balance. She looks at Bernadetta, and while she’d been _expecting_ that Petra would be exhausted by her orgasm, it seems almost as though the exact opposite has happened.

Petra’s expression is _hungry_ , if anything, and she strokes Bernadetta’s hair as she speaks. Her voice is lovely and musical as always, but with a devious edge to it now. “Bernadetta,” she begins. “You are a very excellent teacher.”

“Th-thank you,” she says, and her tongue feels just a little heavy in her mouth. “I tried my best!” 

“And you have been giving me...some ideas,” she continues, and Bernadetta’s eyes widen. The way Petra’s looking at her right now, it reminds her of all those years ago when they had first become friends, and Petra had noted that she looks like prey. She supposes she probably looks about the same, now. Bernadetta scoots backward just a little, mostly out of reflex, and that gives Petra the perfect opportunity to slip down onto the floor with her.

As Petra follows her down, Bernadetta can’t help but feel like she looks like a wolf prepared to pounce.

“And I am thinking that I, like any good student…”

Bernadetta squeaks.

“...should be practicing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As always, thanks to [tansybells](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/tansybells/pseuds/tansybells) for beta reading for me, thanks to [Cookabeara](https://twitter.com/cookabeara) for the adorable icon, and if you want to come get steamy with me, find me on twitter [@spiderlilywrite](https://twitter.com/spiderlilywrite)!

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thanks to [Cookabeara](https://twitter.com/Cookabeara) for trading art with me, and to the ever-lovely [tansybells](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/tansybells/pseuds/tansybells) for being my beta reader. If you'd like to come get sweaty with me, find me on twitter [@spiderlilywrite.](https://twitter.com/spiderlilywrite)


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